


Light

by themantlingdark



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 19:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: Please pretend commenting is disabled. And please don't repost or distribute my writing.





	Light

1 Sleep

 

Thor and Loki first witness their father in an Odinsleep when they are children. They want to know how he can sleep for so long without his bladder waking him. They wonder if it's difficult to fall asleep in the brightly lit bed. It stings their eyes to look at him through the glowing golden haze. They decide it must be wonderfully convenient to sleep for days and not have anyone scolding you for being lazy.

When Odin's next sleep occurs, his sons have grown tall and lanky. Rosy cheeked and handsome, but centuries from being men. They still spend as much time at their books as they do in the sparring arena. And they still shirk their duties to sneak off hunting, swimming, and riding as often as they can manage.

Their voices have deepened. Their skin no longer bears the milky-sweet scent of childhood. Their hair has changed: Thor's was nearly white when he was a toddler, but now it's a deeper gold; Loki's has always been black, but it's beginning to curl with all the other changes in his body.

Nearly everyone in the realms stares at Thor when they have the chance, so Loki assumes it will go unnoticed when he does the same.

He's wrong.

“Why are you watching me so closely?” Thor murmurs, not looking up from his book.

They're sitting across from each other at a table in an old library.

“I'm not,” Loki answers, and goes back to his reading.

They sup with their mother, enjoying how relaxed their evening meal is while Odin is absent. There are no instructions or lectures or political discussions. Just teasing and laughter and lovely stories.

Afterward the brothers retire to their bath.

Thor is brooding, so Loki lets himself stare at his brother's damp hair and dewy skin. The sound of Thor's breathing ricochets off the rippled surface of the water and lands in Loki's ears. It's like magic.

Twenty minutes later Loki's fingers look like pale raisins and the water is getting cold.

“Thor? Did you hear me? I asked if you're all right.”

“Hmm? Oh. 'M fine.”

“Your teeth are starting to chatter.”

Thor nods, climbs out of the bath and wanders into his room, forgetting to dry himself off and leaving a glistening black trail on the stone floor behind him. Loki thinks of a snail. He follows after Thor with a towel, tossing it over his brother's blond head.

“What is the matter with you?” Loki laughs, watching as Thor absentmindedly pats his hair dry and climbs into bed.

Thor dumps the towel on the floor and curls up with his back to his brother. Loki can see every bone in Thor's spine. All the ribs. He wants a sculptor to carve a portrait of Thor like this in marble.

Loki shakes his head and pads back through the bath and into his own room.

Two hours later Loki is still up reading and practicing seidr – casting simple illusions – when he hears thunder rolling in.

Soon after he can hear a tap running in the bathroom.

Loki sets his book down and joins his brother.

Thor is leaning over a basin, arms braced on its edge. He's been dipping his face in cool water.

“Can't sleep?” Loki asks.

“Been like this for months,” Thor shrugs.

“Can you not rest because you're bringing storms, or does it storm because you cannot rest? I haven't noticed unusual amounts of rain.”

“I don't let myself storm more than necessary,” Thor says. “But they're a relief to bring. I feel better afterward.”

“Are you ill?” Loki breathes.

“No,” Thor says, shaking his head.

“What's wrong?”

“Why are you always watching me?” Thor asks, and hears Loki's quick-drawn breath.

Loki spins on his heel and then Thor can hear candles being blown out and see the light beyond the door dimming briefly before ending altogether.

Loki can hear his brother's bare feet on the stone floor just before the bed dips beside him.

“Thor,” Loki warns.

“Do you know why I watch you?” Thor asks, stretching out beside his brother.

“You don't. I watch you, remember?”

“You're such a fool,” Thor chuckles, and pulls the sheet up over himself. “Your nose curves slightly to your right. Your eyebrows are from different realms entirely. Your left foot is longer than your right by the width of a candle wick. Your toes, legs, and fingers are longer than mine, but your back is shorter. The freckle on the crest of your left hip is the same diameter as your pupils when you're outdoors on a sunny day. When you're fretting you chew the inside of your left cheek, but never your right. Your voice is softer and more musical when you're speaking to me or to Mother than it is when you're talking to anyone else. The hair at the base of your neck-”

“Why are you telling me this?” Loki whispers.

“Why do you watch me?”

“Why do you watch me?” Loki yelps.

“Why do you watch birds and stars and horses?” Thor asks.

“Because I love them. They're gorge-” Loki begins, and then pinches his lips shut between his teeth.

Thor laughs quietly in the dark and hears his brother swearing softly.

“Such a fool,” Thor teases, and turns to kiss the curve of Loki's shoulder.

Their first kisses are familiar things. The same soft pecks and smacks that they've given each other a thousand times before - to say hello, orfarewell, or goodnight, or I'm sorry, or congratulations. They're nearly involuntary. It's what they always do when their lips are this close. It allows them a means of reassuring each other while their minds race through all the ways in which they are relieved: relieved not to have disgusted their brother, or lost his trust, or broken his heart. Relieved not to be alone. Relieved to know that the bond between them has no bounds.

They press soft little pouts to each other's lips and cheeks until they come back to themselves.

Then they snake their arms around each other's waists and wind their legs together.

It makes their bodies feel new. As if their skin has just awakened from centuries of slumber. Their flesh is so receptive it's overwhelming. The warmth of their hands on their ribs and backs is thrilling. They can feel each minute shift in the pressure of the digits gripping them. And their minds are mapping - to the very nerves - the distance that lies between the fingers flowing down their spines and the aching shapes between their legs.

They return to their kisses, teasing lips apart and tempting tongues inside with breathy little whimpers. The rawness of it makes them gasp.

Their arms tighten around each other and their cocks slide across the damp skin of their bellies.

It's enough.

Their kisses dissolve into moans as they thrust and then spill, hot and wet and grateful, into the hollows of narrow hips.

Two hours later Thor wakes to Loki shaking him.

“Hmm?”

“Thor? Wake up. We've been stupid.”

“What?” Thor croaks.

“Heimdall,” Loki hisses, and Thor swears.

“We have to hide,” Loki says.

“Where? He can see everything.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Get dressed,” Thor says.

They rush into clothes and climb out Loki's bedroom window into the waiting branches of the ash tree that stands next to it.

They sprint the whole way to the Bifrost, feet pounding on the sparkling surface, sending bursts of light and color away from every step.

They find the guardian god waiting for them.

“Are you going to kill us?” Thor asks, standing at his full height to put his eyes level with Heimdall's.

Thor's face is pale with fear, but his slim body is unbowed.

Heimdall huffs a tiny laugh.

“No, prince.”

“Will you tell our Father?” Loki asks, eyes wide and back braced for the blow of Heimdall's answer.

“No, prince. What goes on between the willing behind bedroom doors has no bearing on the safety of the realms.”

The brothers all but collapse onto the Bifrost and lie there looking up at the stars and letting the smooth surface of the bridge soothe them.

“But the king is from an older world than even I am,” Heimdall warns. “A harsher one. Be careful, boys.”

They take Heimdall's words to heart. The brothers are so cautious it nearly kills them. Their patience and restraint are of a magnitude that can only be managed because they are gods.

They wait until Odin has no hope of seeing them.

They shut out his ravens.

And when king is asleep in his glowing cocoon, his boys turn into butterflies.

They spend their days and nights flitting back and forth between each other's beds.

Hovering over each other.

Fluttering against each other.

Pollinating.

And when the king wakes, his sons go back to waiting.

Loki can't resist testing the waters a bit. Checking to see if all these centuries spent living a softer life have given the king a kinder heart.

Odin warns the princes that he doesn't want any unexpected heirs.

Loki laughs says there's no danger of that, though it would certainly be unexpected if he got a man pregnant.

“I'll have none of that business from you. It's unnatural,” Odin snaps.

Loki can't understand how he can simultaneously feel so disappointed and be so unsurprised.

  
  
  


2 Hope

 

They're arguing again. Not quite about what it looks like.

Loki's plan extends far into their futures. It will split them up again, however briefly. And Thor is tired of it.

Loki says it will be worth it.

But Thor won't let himself believe it.

He's all out of trust and hope.

He will make the best of bad situations, but he will not expect them to end.

Loki wants Thor to go to his friends on Midgard. He is snarling at Thor that their lives are heartbeats. And between the lines Thor hears his brother's blessing and the reminder that he must enjoy his mortal friends while they're still here.

Loki has told Thor that he wants him out of the way and beyond suspicion for what's to come.

The god of mischief was always surprisingly practical.

They try to trick Malekith but only half succeed: the elf doesn't die, but he will believe Loki has. Everyone will believe it.

Death makes the cleanest slates and the tightest alibis, and Loki needs them.

“I didn't do it for him,” Loki wheezes, and Loki doesn't need to say these things.

He told Thor they should both act as if Loki were dying in case Odin or anyone else was watching somehow. And Loki couldn't resist an opportunity for drama.

But they couldn't predict how Loki would have to do it.

Thor only realizes how dangerous this plan is after the fact.

That, if he had hesitated and allowed Loki to be sucked into the hole in space from the Dokkalfar's grenade, he would have lost his brother again, and forever - that it was not one of Loki's illusions.

So, when the blade comes through Loki's breast, Thor thinks that's real, too, and he falls apart.

And Loki knows there is still a very good chance that his plan will get him killed, so he says his goodbyes to his brother while he can.

Loki told Thor that his body would return to its Jotun state if he was really dead.

Thor worried Loki would shift his skin regardless, just to get away from him again.

But Loki goes pale and ashen. True to his word. And it makes Thor's steps a little lighter.

The brothers had so little time to plan. Just the trip from the dungeons to the hall. And Thor loved Loki's idea, he just couldn't bring himself to trust his brother to execute it.

But, now, with Loki's apologies in his ear and his own death a strong possibility, Thor decides he'd rather die foolishly with a heart full of hope than bitterly with what would widely be counted wisdom.

Frigga believed in Loki.

Thor will put his faith in his mother's judgment.

Heimdall is not on the Bifrost when Loki sneaks back into Asgard and looks for him.

Loki ticks off a little box in his mind: a point against Odin's judgment.

He goes to the dungeons.

And there is Heimdall.

Loki drops his glamour and appears as himself: filthy from battle and pale from prison.

Heimdall nods.

Loki lets him out of the cell.

Loki needs this alliance. Needs Heimdall to man the Bifrost. Needs the one who sees all to share his insight.

Loki releases Sif and the warriors three. Sif is shocked to see him, but she inclines her head just slightly. Loki nods in return.

Loki's tally is now five – five warriors loyal to Asgard unjustly imprisoned.

And then Loki tests the Allfather. To see if Odin recognizes him in the guard's guise. He should - Thor would.

But he doesn't.

Odin says nothing of providing Loki with a proper burial.

Loki ticks off another box.

Six points against Odin.

Loki is partial to multiples of three.

Loki drops his glamour and extends his arm.

Gungnir flies to his palm.

“Will you never learn, boy?” Odin says, and holds out his hand, but the spear does not come back to him.

“She was what was best in you,” Loki says. “Perhaps the same can be said of me.”

“She gave you better than you deserved.”

“And I am in her debt,” Loki agrees. “But where I would repay her, you would destroy all that she loved.”

“That is the burden of rule,” Odin barks.

“That is the blind destruction of an animal in pain, and it's a place I know well.”

“It is the duty of a king.”

“No,” Loki says sadly, shaking his head and sending his tears zigzagging down over his cheeks. “Odin, Allfather, you have broken the oath you swore to protect the realms and preserve the peace. To put aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of the realms. You are a vain, greedy, and cruel king. You are unworthy of this world. Of your title. Of the loved ones you have betrayed. I hereby take from you your powers.”

Loki slams the butt of the spear against the ground and Odin sinks to his knees and struggles to breathe.

Loki squints for a moment and then his eyes widen in understanding.

“You were using seidr to extend your life. To give your lungs the strength to draw breath. How could you be so stupid? It's unnatural,” Loki scolds, and then claps a hand over his own mouth.

He crouches beside Odin as the last air rattles out of his lungs.

“I hope that you may see her again, and so become yourself once more,” Loki whispers, and closes the king's eyes.

Heimdall brings Thor home when the battle on Midgard is done.

The haggard warriors embrace.

Thor's heart holds Heimdall as family after over a thousand years spent under his watch.

Odin's ship is large and burns brightly, though only Loki, Thor, and the five former prisoners can see it. Loki brings Gungnir down hard again and Odin's ashes rise into the stars beside Frigga's.

Loki promises he'll give the Allfather a public death and funeral when the dust has settled across the realms. Until then, Loki takes to wearing Odin's shape. The name still carries weight, and the appearance of stability is welcome.

At the throne the next day, Thor offers up his hammer. He can't resist teasing Loki a little. They're still not sure if Loki can lift it. Loki would rather not know.

Thor even flirts.

Telling Loki he died honorably.

Loki is grateful. It gives him hope.

Loki insists that Thor is to go about his business exactly as he would if Odin were still alive and Loki were really dead.

Loki will have no suspicion falling on his brother.

And Loki knows his brother is in pieces.

And he knows that he's the one who put Thor there.

It's like a spur in his flank.

He's giving Thor time with Jane.

This is Loki's penance.

And he feels the punishment keenly.

  
  


3 Souls

 

Jane wants Thor to make love to her.

Nearly everyone does if they give it a moment's thought.

Loki can't blame her... technically.

She's all but dragging Thor to her room.

Thor loves kisses. He hasn't had any in ages. He can give her these – or, rather, let her take them. He knows it's the only comfort she will give him, and that it's merely collateral damage: she wants his kisses, so he will be kissed.

She will not say I grieve for the loss of your mother. And certainly not I'm sorry about your brother. These are the unforeseen revelations of Loki's plan.

That these short-lived human beings treasure their own wounds too greatly to tend to the injuries in others. That a millennium of love is incomprehensible, but three years of hate are all they need.

They want Thor's goodness and strength. His protection and generosity. But they will offer little of their own in return. Thor's woes and battles are quite beyond them.

Perhaps it's not their fault. But Thor will ache no less for their innocence.

Jane and Thor get to her room and she kicks the door closed and sits on the mattress, patting the space beside her. Thor stands, smiling softly and shaking his head.

Time to pull back the curtain.

Thor explains reality.

That he weighs over six hundred pounds and would likely ruin her bed - and possibly even her body.

That he's a fertility god.

That she's ovulating – that he can hear it in her voice and smell it on her skin.

That it would kill her to bear his child. That it would be much like being possessed by the Aether again.

Jane goes still and shakes herself slightly before offering a tight smile, then she pulls all the pillows and blankets down onto the floor and they curl up face to face.

“When was the last time you slept?” she asks.

She wakes him less than an hour later after receiving a text from Darcy.

“Thor? Sorry. There's a... thing... running around. It's not from Earth.”

Thor knocks the beastling out with a smack from Mjolnir and asks Heimdall to send it home to Jotunheim. He's tired of killing.

Loki loves power. Always has. The more you have of it, the more you understand it and the more you can see and do. And while Loki never wanted to be caged by the throne, he can slip through its bars in ways Thor never could. Its burden sits more lightly on Loki's shoulders, and its grimmer aspects pale beside all the darkness Loki has seen in his days.

And the throne is power.

He wears Odin's image while he repairs the damage done to Asgard.

He puts Bor's head back on its shoulders. And if Bor's features look a bit more like Thor's than they did before, no one mentions it.

The Aesir notice that the repairs seem to be wearing on the Allfather, but his magic is as strong as ever – the world is healing rapidly.

Loki wants the realm to be as whole and familiar to its inhabitants as possible - to minimize the changes to which they must adapt in their physical lives before he upends their internal existences.

The object Loki sent to The Collector was not what it seemed, but the Aesir are so trusted no one ever suspected the deception. The Aether is still in Asgard's vault, and the Destroyer is still guarding it. The object in the Collector's vault is a portal, and Loki uses it to examine the man's other possessions, steal a few of them, and listen to his dealings.

Time is growing short. The hunt has not yet begun in earnest, but Thanos will soon be in pursuit of the gems, and the Collector will be competing with him.

No time to lose, Loki decides.

He asks Sif to watch the throne while he leaves an illusion of Odin sitting on it.

Loki rides out to the Bifrost disguised as a guard.

When he arrives, Heimdall shuts them into the room and Loki shifts his glamour.

“Will it do?” Loki asks.

Heimdall peers out into the realms.

“She has less hair these days. And the tip of the third finger on her right hand is gone now.”

Loki makes the alterations.

“Better?”

Heimdall considers him a moment.

“You need to look more... dusty.”

Loki does so.

“That will do,” Heimdall nods.

“Where is he?” Loki asks.

“On Svartalfheim, searching Malekith's corpse and ship for the Aether.”

Loki nods.

He wards a small elven craft and takes it to his passageway in the mountains, floating out into Svartalfheim.

He finds Thanos pocketing some of the Dokkalfar's weapons.

“Have you succeeded, my love?” Loki asks.

Thanos's eyes light up at the sight of Mistress Death.

“No, lady. But I will.”

“Where is the Aether?”

“I know not. But I will find it.”

“Must I wait another five thousand years?”

“No, of course not. I will not fail you.”

“Do you still possess the time gem at least?”

“Aye, my lady,” Thanos answers, patting a pouch that hangs at his hip.

“Then we can use it to get the Aether.”

“How?”

Mistress Death cocks her head and comes closer, grinning at Thanos as she reaches into his pocket to get the stone.

Thanos is pleased by her attentions.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are,” Death soothes. “There is much magic that came long before your time.”

Death walks toward Malekith's body and Thanos begins to follow.

“Keep a safe distance,” Death warns. “This seidr can't hurt me – I'm already beyond its grasp – but you are still vulnerable to-”

The grenade that Loki activated in Thanos's pocket detonates. Loki pressed it while he was stealing the stone. The giant is devoured by the bomb's tiny singularity.

Loki burns Malekith's corpse and debates whether he wants Heimdall to take him home through the Bifrost or if he wants to go back the way he came. He decides it couldn't hurt to have the Dokkalfar vessel handy on Asgard, so he slips home through his mountain pass and hides the ship in an old cave.

At the palace, Loki steps back into Odin's glamour, thanks Sif for her service, and asks if she can return tomorrow to keep watch over the throne once more. She agrees.

Loki sends Odin's illusion to bed while he wards himself from sight and puts the gem in the vault with the others.

In the morning, Loki fusses over his appearance for longer than he has in years. Puts his hair into a dozen different shapes before settling on soft curls.

Puts on his best black silks and cloak.

Polishes his boots.

He wishes his complexion didn't advertise his imprisonment quite so effectively, but he'll use no glamour – his aunt will see through it.

Frigga's sister Freyja made a political marriage with Odr, king of Vanaheim as soon as she came of age.

When Loki was very little he had asked her why she married someone so much older than herself, and whether it saddened her not to have a playmate her own age.

“Oh, it's just marriage, darling,” she had soothed. “I go to Alfheim all the time to play with my brother. And Odr has friends from his own generation.”

Her words were a comfort when she spoke them and then again centuries later when Loki realized that his aunt was admitting that she fooled around with Freyr as often as possible.

It was a relief to know he and Thor weren't alone.

Freyja meets Loki at the Bifrost site and he drops to one knee and bows.

“I am sorry for the loss of your sister,” Loki says, and rises with her offered hand.

“Thank you. I am sorry for the loss of your mother,” she says, and tucks his hair behind his ears to better see his face.

“Thank you, my queen.”

“You could do with some sun,” she tells him, and kisses his cheeks.

They walk arm in arm to the palace and sit in a small library on a sofa so soft Loki can't resist bouncing on it a bit. Freyja's cats come and occupy their laps as they talk.

Loki lets himself revel in Freyja's features. She has eyes just like his mother's.

When the sun starts to sink Freyja takes off her necklace and sets a spell on it. The large green stone at its center drops from its setting.

“I wish I could promise I'll replace it with something equally lovely,” Loki says, as she sets the soul gem in his hand. “But we both know it has no rival.”

“It is no loss. This is why I've kept it safe all this time. Does he know of your plan.”

“Aye, lady.”

“And he knows what it will cost him?”

“He does. I'm afraid he's no stranger to sacrifice,” Loki sighs.

Freyja rises, to the dismay of the feline warming her thighs, and fetches a large wooden box from a table.

“Here,” she says, setting it on Loki's lap. “Give this to him. Perhaps it will soften the blow.”

“Thank you, auntie,” Loki smiles, and she kisses the top of his head.

“Go, lad. Tomorrow is an auspicious day. Rise early so that you may make use of every minute.”

Loki nods and takes his leave.

Loki sends Fandral to retrieve Thor from Midgard, hoping the warrior's charm will take the sting out, if there's any to be had. Loki still isn't certain where Thor's heart is these days. It's been broken so many times Loki can hardly blame his brother for hiding it.

Thor makes his way straight to the throne where his father's image nods at him and tells him to retire, for tomorrow will be strange at best.

Thor goes to his room and paces until he hears the water running in the bathroom and then he rushes in to find his brother lying on the floor of the pool as it fills, hair and arms floating but backside still planted on the bottom.

“Thanos?” Thor says.

“Finished.”

“And tomorrow we destroy them.”

“Not destroy them,” Loki says, shaking his head and sitting up.

Thor tosses his clothes into a basket and climbs down into the bath to sit in front of his brother.

“But you said we'd send them-”

“Yes, but not to destroy them.”

“What, then?” Thor asks.

“Restore them.”

“Restore them to what? Or whom? What do you mean?” Thor asks.

Loki takes a deep breath and thinks a moment.

“Do you know what the infinity gems were called in Bor's time?” Loki asks.

“Soul gems,” Thor answers.

“Aye.”

“But only one of them is soul,” Thor says.

“No,” Loki corrects gently. “They are all soul.”

“I don't understand. And how do you know this?”

Loki dunks himself briefly and turns off the tap. He wades to the edge of the bath and leans against the lip, folding his arms beneath his chin and letting his legs float up behind him. Thor follows suit and then stares at the drops of water caught in the hair on Loki's forearms.

“Do you remember that book I was so desperate to find?” Loki asks.

“The one on Vanaheim?”

“Aye,” Loki answers. “Mother told me it was lost in a war, but that it hadn't fallen far. That it was plainly bound and overlooked. Left in the wreckage. She said it contained the story of the oldest seidr in existence. I wanted it, of course. And it was just sitting there in that ruined library, high on that mountain. You flew us up like birds. And you were disappointed there were no dragons guarding it.”

Thor laughs and nods

“It was a mystic's diary,” Loki says. “Visions and dreams recorded in a frantic hand lest the images be forgotten.”

“How did you know what was important?” Thor asks. “How did you know they weren't just anyone's dreams and that you got the right book?”

“Because many of them had come true. Long after the book was written. I read the whole thing while we were there, remember? You got bored and flew off to visit Hogun.”

“And how could you tell which vision showed the oldest event? I doubt they came to her in order.”

“Him. And the words, 'In the beginning,' are always a good indicator.”

The brothers grin and Loki stands up to begin washing his hair.

“Do you know how old the realms are?” Loki asks

“Thirteen billion eight hundred million Midgardian years. Give or take,” Thor answers, scrubbing an armpit.

“You've been paying attention. Your humans counted the rings on that stump. Industrious little things.”

“That they are.”

“Do you believe in Valhalla?” Loki asks, and Thor goes still.

He is quiet for a long moment.

“I want to,” Thor admits at a whisper.

Loki nods.

“Life is a novelty to the realms,” Loki says. “For the bulk of existence, there were no beings. But there was a soul. One. Waiting for us. Waiting for all the thinking breathing things to give it shelter. But no one came. And the soul grew lonely. And desperate. And wild. And it broke like a heart in the hope that its pieces could keep one another company. But they couldn't. The shards drifted. Some grew patient. Others grew bitter. All of them were powerful.”

Thor has ceased his washing and his eyes are fixed on his brother's face.

“The gems are the severed pieces of one soul,” Loki says softly. “The soul. All souls. Odin turned Mother's ashes into stars, but she had no spirit. Nor do we. No one will until the gems are reunited. If there is a chance that I can see her again, it is this. I have to try. The last words I said to her were so ugly, Thor.”

“Were they lies?”

“Yes.”

“She always knew when you were lying, Loki.”

“Exactly. I should have known better. Been better.”

Thor nods. His last words to his mother were nothing special.

The brothers moor themselves at the edge of the bath again, feet kicking slowly, listening to the faint splashes from their churning legs.

“Have you not felt the lack?” Loki whispers.

“I've often felt I was missing something vital,” Thor admits. “But I attributed it to lacking you. Twelve hundred years and we've spent less than two hundred days...”

“I know,” Loki murmurs. “One hundred and eighty six days.”

“Do you remember that first night in your room?” Thor asks.

“I do little else.”

“Six hundred years ago tomorrow. To the day.”

“I know,” Loki nods. “Freyja was pleased with the coincidence.”

“She would be,” Thor chuckles. “How was she?”

“Beautiful. Sad.”

Thor nods.

“She recommends an early start in the morning,” Loki sighs, and they hurry through their bathing and trudge to their beds.

Loki's room is on the West side of their hall and Thor's is on the East. Loki has often wondered if this is why Thor is generally an early riser.

Loki wakes and dresses. He thinks he should feel more excitement. But instead there's a vague dread. There's always a chance that he's got it wrong. Or that it will go wrong regardless.

And it's going to cost Thor in any case.

He's tired of costing Thor.

He hears no noise from the bath or from Thor's bedroom, so he goes in to check up on his brother.

Thor's bed is up in an alcove walled with windows. Thor rarely closed the curtains when he was young, always wanting to watch the stars and wake with the sun. But this morning it's dark in Thor's room and he is deep in sleep. His breaths are slow and even, barely perceptible. He looks exhausted. He's on his back with his left arm curved over his head and his right hand protectively cupping his belly. His legs are tangled in the sheets. The hollows under his eyes are deeper and darker than Loki has ever seen.

Loki wishes he could let Thor sleep, but he can't do this alone.

“Thor?”

Loki gets no response.

He bends to set a kiss on Thor's brow.

“Darling, you have to wake up,” Loki murmurs.

“Hmmm?” Thor grunts, stretching and taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. “I thought you were Mother,” Thor says, voice low and rough with sleep.

“I take offense on her behalf – that you could mistake your pallid wretch of a brother for the Queen of Asgard. For shame, Thor,” Loki says, and flicks Thor's ear.

“Should we wear armor?” Thor asks.

“No. It won't help us.”

Loki puts Odin's image on the throne again with Sif at its side.

But Loki wears no glamour today. He walks with his brother in full sight of the guards. His death has served its purpose in wiping him from his enemies' minds. But Loki wants his involvement in what's about to occur to be widely known - so that he may take the blame if it goes pear-shaped.

The brothers go to the vaults and then out to the Bifrost.

“Have you found one?” Loki asks Heimdall.

“Yes.”

Loki asked Heimdall to seek a dying star that has not yet collapsed into a black hole. They need intense pressure, but the pull of gravity cannot be so great that it will restrict all escape.

Thor holds out Mjolnir and Loki begins adhering the gems to her head with elaborate spells.

“Which one is which?” Thor asks, watching Loki's deft fingers working.

“The Aether is space. The Tesseract is mind.”

Loki takes up the casket of ancient winters and opens it. The gem inside is a faint gold, which pulls a surprised noise from Thor.

“This is the reality gem. For the Jotnar that meant ice. For the Dokkalfar it would have meant darkness.”

Loki picks up a small glowing orange sphere.

“This one is time. Thanos had it in his pocket like a fucking marble.”

“It's beautiful,” Thor murmurs, and Loki nods.

“Is that from Brisingamen?” Thor asks, as Loki lifts a glossy green stone.

“Mmmhmm. This is soul.”

“Did anyone know she had it?”

“No,” Loki laughs. “They were all too busy wondering what she got up to in bed with her brother to bother taking her seriously. But she's as bright a witch as Mother was.”

Thor is grinning.

“And Mjolnir's head is the stone of power,” Loki says. “And only you can lift her. And if that is not auspicious, then I don't know what is.”

Thor nods.

“Step out onto the bridge and practice throwing her a bit with the new weight,” Loki urges. “You'll only get one shot at this.”

Thor throws and recalls his hammer. She flies as true as ever.

“There is no change,” Thor says, and Loki hums.

Heimdall opens a portal in the Bifrost and then he and Loki step aside so that Thor isn't crowded.

He is to throw the stones hard enough that they will pierce the failing star and sink deep into its heart where the heat and pressure will merge them.

Thor doesn't hesitate.

Mjolnir and her passengers vanish in a blur of color and then Heimdall and Loki rush to open all the portals in the bridge.

They don't know how long they have.

Lacking any guidelines, Loki is using Midgardian physics as his baseline and assuming that the soul will operate much as photons do. Which would mean that, on its own, the soul would take light-years to reach the entire universe. Loki finds that unacceptable, so he and Heimdall are clearing a shorter path: the soul will have access to all the branches of the Bifrost.

“Open this,” Loki says, conjuring the box Freyja gave him and handing it to Thor.

Thor pulls off the lid and smiles.

The cloak of feathers.

His aunt wants him to keep flying.

“Put it on,” Loki urges. “I have no idea what's going to happen.”

The Bifrost is building. Not in the tightly concentrated way that it did when Loki tried to destroy Jotunheim, but in the way that frost covers a pane of glass: it is everywhere. The gold of the dome has been obscured by coiling crystal branches that are only punctuated by glowing portals. Everything is humming and vibrating faintly.

“We should move out onto the bridge,” Loki says, and Thor grabs Heimdall and Loki by the elbows and hastens them out.

They are knocked from their feet by a blast of light.

  
  


4  Snow

 

Heimdall recovers first and shakes the brothers awake before running into the Bifrost to close the portals.

“Well?” Loki shouts, scrambling to his feet and bounding into the dome.

Heimdall claps Loki's back.

“Well done, trickster.”

Loki spins, runs out onto the bridge, and goes still.

There is no sign of Thor.

“Up here,” Thor shouts, floating above the dome with Freyja's cloak.

“Don't scare me like that,” Loki scolds.

Thor just rolls his eyes and slowly descends.

“It worked,” Loki says.

“I know,” Thor murmurs.

“What do you mean you know?”

“I can't hear her anymore.”

“Oh,” Loki breathes. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right. I always thought she was singing for me. But now I think her song was meant for the other five.”

“I think it was a bit of both, actually,” Loki says, and Thor smiles.

For weeks throughout the realms, children and babies sleep like stones while adults lie awake half the night with the strangest feeling.

It's not unpleasant.

It's like the name at the tip of your tongue. The scent you can't describe. The face you know you've seen, but can't recall its owner's name.

The changes are subtle.

Patience stretches farther. Charity is second nature. Lovers seem to find each other faster. Vegetarianism becomes the rule rather than the exception in all climes that accommodate it. Quarrels are rare.

Loki gives Odin's image its proper death and public funeral.

Thor is there when the king falls. And he realizes that the illusion he is seeing is built on a memory, for when he looks into Odin's eyes, it is Loki's face he finds reflected on their lenses.

Loki catches Thor's fingers flexing unconsciously at his hip as he paces the palace. He slides Gungnir into Thor's hand.

“There,” Loki says. “Now you can fly and hit things again.”

Thor snorts.

Thor won't allow a coronation. He says the first one was plenty. And he avoids the throne. But he fulfills all the other expectations of the Allfather, and Loki counts this as progress.

But Thor sees little of his brother.

After almost a month with no word from Loki, Thor gives up and goes to Heimdall.

“Have you seen him?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“He is on Alfheim now.”

“Where was he before?”

“Svartalfheim.”

“Doing what?” Thor says, surprised.

“Mining. Its mountains are rich with gems.”

“He's with Freyja now,” Thor realizes.

“Aye. He's replacing the stone he took from Brisingamen. And after that he will think of new excuses to visit her, for he loves to see his mother's features on his aunt's face. And he will tell tales to set her laughing, for that is when the resemblance between siblings is strongest.”

Thor nods.

“And he is well?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Heimdall.”

A week later Thor walks into the bath and finds his brother's body curled up on a white blanket at the bottom of the empty pool. Loki's skin is blue and there's a red stain spreading out across the bedding.

Thor's nose is telling him menstrual blood, but Loki's voice told him I'll look Jotun if I'm dead, and that's all Thor can think about.

“Nonononono,” Thor chants and rushes down into the basin.

The blanket is cold under Thor's bare feet.

Snow.

But the blood is warm, sinking down into the powder and smelling of steel.

“Breathe, Thor, this is normal,” Loki says, eyes still closed, as Thor's fingers alight on his shoulder.

Thor's breaths are ragged. He sags back against the wall of the bath while the snow chills his ass.

“Do you need anything for the pain?” Thor pants.

“There's no pain when I'm in this skin, but the heat here is oppressive, so I like to sleep like this.”

Thor tips onto his side and buries his face in the snow to pull his pulse out of its panic.

“How long will it last?” Thor asks.

“Just a few hours. The muscles are quite efficient when they're in their intended form. The first time this happened I went through it in Aesir skin and it took a whole week and reduced me to tears.”

Thor groans and climbs to his feet.

“Need anything?” Thor asks.

“No.”

“Torches lit or out?”

“Out,” Loki says.

Thor pinches out the flames as he heads off to bed.

Loki hears the wind picking up a few minutes later, and the breeze that reaches his skin is cool.

He smiles to himself.

Thor checks the bath when he wakes and finds it clean and empty.

Somehow the sight is not as comforting as he'd like.

He pads into Loki's room and sees pale feet peeking out from beneath a pile of blankets.

“I'm all right,” Loki says, voice muffled by quilts.

“How often?”

“Every six months.”

Thor sits on the edge of the bed. Loki unearths himself slightly, pushing the blankets down so that they're in a heap on his belly.

“Sorry for the fright,” Loki murmurs.

“It's not your fault, I should have seen it coming.”

“Freyja sends her love.”

“Send her mine when you see her.”

“I shall,” Loki yawns. “What will you do today?”

“It's going to snow,” Thor says, flopping down onto his back. “And that's all I'm doing.”

Loki hums. He can already hear the flakes against his windowpanes.

“Have you been avoiding me?” Thor asks. “Have I offended you?”

“No,” Loki says, turning onto his side and snatching Thor's chin in his hand. “I've been... finding joyful ways to grieve.”

Thor nods and Loki releases him.

“I go to her rooms and read her books,” Thor admits. “And I wear her sashes, cloaks, and scarves.”

Loki cocks an eyebrow.

“They still smell like her,” Thor explains.

“I can't wait to hear the rumors,” Loki says.

“You can't wait to start the rumors,” Thor corrects, and Loki grins.

Thor turns his head and kisses Loki's shoulder.

Loki cranes his neck to kiss Thor's forehead.

They stare for a moment and then there's a flurry of motion as Loki kicks blankets out of the way and Thor flips to land on top of his brother.

They're already breathing hard - gulping air in through their mouths and pouring it out against each other's necks, hot from its time in their blood.

Loki runs his hands over Thor's sides in long slow passes, thinking to soothe him, but it's been so long that every touch is maddening.

Thor starts nibbling Loki's ear and then mouthing his way down the right side of Loki's neck, into the hollow at the base of his throat, and up to Loki's left ear.

Loki turns his head to demand proper kisses and Thor groans as Loki's mouth opens under his, tongue sliding against his own and lips trying to pull Thor in deeper. Thor wants Loki to swallow him and it makes Thor want to swallow Loki.

He can't think of any reason not to.

Thor backs down the bed and bends to glide his lips along the length of Loki's prick.

Loki's stomach rolls just like a wave and his moan is almost a sob. His thin arms grapple uselessly with the sheets.

Thor swirls his tongue around the silky skin of the head and savors tastes that he has longed for for half a century.

And then Thor is moaning around Loki's cock, and Loki wants to say that's not fair, but all he can do is scream as his come pours down Thor's throat.

And then Thor is nudging Loki's legs apart and settling in between them.

The fluid pooling on the bed beneath Loki's quim is pink, bearing the last traces of Loki's menses.

When Thor leans down and slides his tongue into Loki's cunt he can taste blood and winter.

He pulls Loki in by the hips and licks until Loki is twitching.

Thor dozes with his head on Loki's thigh as his brother recovers, hearing Loki's pulse in his ear.

“Come up here,” Loki pants, and Thor crawls up Loki's body while Loki snakes an arm between them.

Thor swears when Loki's fingers close around his cock and slide the foreskin toward the base.

“I'm ready, but I'm small,” Loki whispers. “Tighter than a fist. Your turn to scream, brother.”

Thor thinks Loki is exaggerating.

He is not.

Thor's mouth and eyes go wide as he inches into Loki's body.

Loki's head falls back and he sips shallow breaths.

“All right?” Thor whispers.

“Yes. Fuck. I wish I could have your cock in my mouth and my cunt all at once,” Loki groans, and Thor reaches up to slide his left thumb between Loki's lips.

Loki hums and bites it softly before sucking on it slowly.

Thor watches. He feels the velvet drag of taste buds against the whorl of his fingerprint while the satin walls of Loki's quim milk the thickness of his prick.

And soon Loki is biting down harder on Thor's thumb with every thrust of Thor's hips. Loki's eyes are shut tight and his cunny is clenching and wet heat is pulsing out onto Thor's belly. Thor has never been so immersed in sex in all his life. He growls when he comes, biting Loki's ear and spilling a creamy ocean of seed into Loki's greedy little cunt.

All they can do is breathe.

Then they sleep.

When they wake, Thor wants Loki to fuck him, and Loki is happy to oblige.

It's the only time Thor really lets himself go.

Stops worrying about giving and finally lets himself take.

Thor curls up on his left side and Loki slots in behind him, reaching between them to rub a rich salve onto their skin. And then Loki lines himself up and feels Thor's belly flex under his palm as Thor opens to let him in.

“Fuck. You're wonderful,” Loki whispers, cock sheathed in tight heat, and Thor weaves his fingers through Loki's own where they're splayed over Thor's stomach.

Loki stays propped up slightly on his left elbow so that he can lean over to see Thor's face.

Thor's mouth is hanging open and his eyes are closed. Soft noises are slipping past his lips, like wind under a door.

Every pass of Loki's hips pulls these notes from Thor's throat.

Like he's a cello.

Loki wants to play a symphony on him.

Thor guides Loki's hand down to his prick and Loki strokes it while Thor reaches over his own shoulder to clasp the back of Loki's neck.

Thor is breathing fast, moaning loud, and getting tighter around Loki's length.

Loki starts sucking a mark behind Thor's ear and Thor comes with a shout, semen dappling Loki's sheets.

Two hours later Thor wakes to Loki shaking him.

“Hmm?”

“Thor? Wake up. We've been stupid.”

“What now?” Thor croaks.

“It's been snowing for six hours,” Loki giggles, and Thor swears. “Everyone's going to hate you all week.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please pretend commenting is disabled. And please don't repost or distribute my writing.


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